


Honey, this Mirror isn't big enough for the two of us

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Series: Songs stuck in my head [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Just smut, M/M, Sex, Tattoos, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-21 15:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6057009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has absolutely no idea how he ended up with Frank Iero in a shower in his hotel room, but Patrick has a distinct feeling its Pete’s fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always: You find mistakes, you keep them, except for misplaced limbs and people.

He has absolutely no idea how he ended up with Frank Iero in a shower in his hotel room, but Patrick has a distinct feeling its Pete’s fault.

Because when he had gotten to the hotel after finishing a radio interview that day, he had found a message from Pete in his room. It said he couldn't make it tonight but had a surprise for him. The paper note had been left on the little side table in his room, on top of a fluffy bathrobe and towel and a little basket of Patrick’s favorite shower gel – which Pete always claimed was the same he used, just packed in a fancy bottle and honestly not worth the more expensive price.

Patrick had been surprised that Pete thought of this and was already looking forward to a hot shower, even though he'd rather see Pete. He had shot a quick message to Pete, saying that he found the surprise and thanking him, and then had decided to waste no more time and just get into the shower.

Where he is standing right now, looking at Frank Iero – wet and naked – confused as hell.

And Patrick tries his best not to think back to when he was just locked into an intimate embrace with him, when Frank’s lips had been on his neck, his arms draped around Patrick’s body. Because when Frank stepped into the shower Patrick thought it was Pete - the note saying he couldn't make it just a ruse to surprise him in the shower. The room was filled with steam from the hot water and his glasses had been discarded before Patrick got into the shower.

So the dark-haired figure entering his hotel room – his bathroom while he was in the shower – could only have been Pete. There was no scenario where Frank was considered a possibility for _naked in Patrick’s shower while he’s still inside_.

And the whole mix-up was only noticed when Patrick let out a soft sigh of Pete’s name when Frank kissed his neck and the mumbled _‘not exactly’_ sounded nothing like Pete.

Patrick had spun around fast, mindful not to slip on the wet tiles, and came face to face with not-Pete.

“You’re not Pete,” Patrick says again now, just like the first time when he had looked at Frank. His reply then had been a suggestive smirk, accompanied by ‘ _no, I’m not, but I can admit a certain resemblance._ ’

So that’s how he ended up in his shower and almost made out with naked, wet Frank Iero in the shower. And it’s important for his mind to highlight wet and naked again and again. And it has to be Pete’s fault, right?

There’s an awkward silence were they are just looking at each other – Patrick trying to concentrate on Frank’s face - or at least that general direction, because he’d rather not meet Frank’s eyes right now.

“Well, it’s pretty obvious you were not expecting me,” Frank says and Patrick isn’t listening, because the water is still running and little streams are traveling down Frank's body. And Patrick’s eyes can’t not follow – he sees the image of two doves in the same place where Pete’s bartskull tattoo would be - and he’s not sure why they’re still in the shower and he’s drifting off with rambling thoughts.

“What?” Patrick tears his eyes up again, finally looking at Frank, questions written all over his face.

“Look, I can just go, if I misunderstood Pete.” And there it was, his suspicion confirmed. And the message Pete left him, about a surprise, became a whole different meaning.

Patrick is sure in Pete’s head that was a perfectly normal thing to do for his boyfriend, arrange a sex-date with another man because they fantasized about it together. So why not just stop talking and start doing. Even when he thinks it, it sounds like Pete. Patrick huffs out a hot breath, but doesn’t say anything and Frank takes it as his answer. He turns around to go and his hand is already on the sliding door and Patrick can’t let him go.

Since Pete first brought it, or rather him, up, Patrick had been obsessing over it, just a little. Frank had a recurring role in more than one of their – his – fantasies since then. He's certain Frank wouldn’t be here if he didn’t… and if Pete was okay with it…

Just before Frank can slide open the door Patrick’s hand grips his arm and that little touch of skin he gets already feels hot to the touch. Frank turns a little to look at him, waiting for whatever Patrick’s about to say or do.

“Pete’s an ass and most of the time doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And I don’t know what exactly he told you, but…” His words are rushed and Patrick has no idea how to finish that sentence. He is so far out of his depths here. How does he… proposition someone?

But somehow Frank seems to understand his conflict and what he’s trying to say, because the uncertainty in his eyes is now gone and the devilish smile is back in place. He takes a small step towards Patrick.

“I can show you what he told me,” Frank whispers, barely audible above the rushing sound of the water. He’s not waiting for an answer as he steps closer again, his hand gripping Patrick’s wet hair and pulling his face close.

And the lips that had caressed his neck before are now kissing Patrick, little nips at first, before Frank’s tongue pushes into his mouth. He isn’t asking for permission, just showing what he wants and Patrick thinks that’s the hottest thing and maybe his brain is melting a little. The first press of lips has somehow switched off Patrick’s reservations and he’s responding to the kiss more enthusiastic than he first thought possible.

He’s hyper-aware that they’re both still naked and he really wants to feel Frank against him again. Without breaking the kiss he wraps his arms around Frank’s neck and presses his whole body against him. The sudden contact has them both groaning into the kiss and Patrick can feel that Frank is hard, too. If he hadn’t been sure about this before, he is now.

Patrick doesn’t fight back when Frank pushes him against the tiled wall of the shower. The feeling of the cold on his back and the hot water mixed with Frank’s kisses makes him shudder all over. Frank’s body is covering his and Patrick is trapped between him and the wall, but can’t seem to really care.

Patrick feels Frank’s hand moving down his body just when it nudges at his hip, pushing a little more to squeeze between the little space in-between their bodies and wrap his hand firmly around Patrick’s dick, just holding him between his fingers.

He wants to look down, see whatever Franks about to do, but at the same time he just wants to enjoy the hot kisses on his lips a little longer. It feels so good and somehow exactly like Patrick imagined it before.

In the end the need to see everything, don’t miss anything, wins and Patrick breaks the kiss to look down between their bodies where Frank’s hand is now moving up the length of his dick and down again. The tattooed fingers look so different from his own – or Pete’s – it sends another chill down Patrick’s spine. He keeps his eyes focused on Frank’s hand for as long as he can, but when Frank speeds up his movement he can’t keep them open any longer. His had falls back against the wall and little moans escape his lips again and again.

And he wants to touch Frank too, feel that skin under his fingertips, but whenever he gets just near Franks lower stomach, his hand gets batted away. After a few more tries and some shared laughter he gives up and surrenders to the sensation Frank is creating.

The following silence is filled with Patrick’s moans and Frank’s heavy breathing, the sound of the water pouring down on them and the slick-slide of skin against skin. It’s pushing Patrick steadily forward, his skin tingling all over and it’s too fast and too soon, Patrick is not ready for it to be over.

“Stop, hold on,” he says with a long groan, his hand grabbing Frank’s and stopping his movement. With heavy-lidded eyes he looks at Frank, who is confused at the sudden stop.

“What wrong?”

“I’m too close, I don’t want to…” But it’s the wrong thing to say, or maybe it’s the right thing, because Frank just smirks at him – Patrick knows that kind of smirk well enough – and grabs Patrick’s hand with his free one, holding it up right next to Patrick’s head.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you rock-hard again in no time,” Frank whispers into his ear and as he says it he begins a new rhythm with his hand, “and I’m not stopping until that happened.”

And now he’s chuckling low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the skin where they’re touching. He kisses Patrick once, messy, all tongue and battling for space, before he breaks away again.

Patrick can feel the intent in Franks movement change – when before the goal was to draw every possible reaction from Patrick it was now fast and just to get Patrick over the finish line – and his fingers tighten on Frank’s shoulder, where he is holding on so tight the skin is turning white, but Frank is not complaining. His hand never even falters once.

“And until I’m buried inside you to the fucking hilt.”

And it’s all too much, Patrick can’t hold back anymore, not when his mind wanders ahead of them. He’s coming into Frank’s hand, which isn’t stopping at all until Patrick’s moans become a desperate plea, the thick ropes of cum getting washed away by the water. Patrick thinks his knees might give out under him, but Frank is holding him up against his body, a hand on his neck rubbing slow circles into Patrick’s heated skin, everything bordering on too much sensation.

Frank keeps holding Patrick – through the little shivers that start in his stomach and travel to his toes and fingers – waiting patiently.

“God, I can’t even describe how amazing you just looked. Come on, let’s dry off and get to bed.”

And that does sound nice, if only so Patrick can lie down. For another minute he enjoys the feeling of just him and Frank leaning against each other and then he nods and turns off the water, waiting for Frank to hand him a towel. But instead Frank just starts drying Patrick off himself, rubbing the soft towel over his skin – without it being anything sexual – and then dropping it on his head.

Patrick takes over and rubs over his wet hair, far less gentle than Frank had before, while Frank just wraps a towel around his waist, still drips of water glistening on his skin. When they get out of the shower stall Frank wraps Patrick up in the bathrobe he first took with him to the bathroom.

“So, tell me, did Pete just called you up and said ‘ _Want to fuck Patrick?_ ’ or what?” Patrick has wondered before how that happened, he can’t imagine it.

“That's pretty accurate, I thought I misheard or that he was joking, but he went on and on and on and when he started begging I said ‘ _okay, if I have to and you stop asking, for the love of god_ ’,” he answers, his voice laced with mock-exasperation and Patrick sees him rolling his eyes.

“Funny. Yeah, you looked like it was a real burden up until now.” Just for good measure he’s sticking his tongue out at Frank.

“Thanks for noticing, now move along. I have plans!” Frank turns him around to face the door and gives Patrick a pat on his butt to push him along.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: You find mistakes, you keep them, except for misplaced limbs and people.

Leaving the bathroom with light banter between them, Frank keeps giving Patrick little pushes, nudging him in the direction of the bed at the far side of the room. 

Even with the first bit of tension drained out of him, Patrick feels a little thrown off and uneasy again, but Frank seems to have it all planned out. They end up on the bed together, Patrick still wrapped into the thick bathrobe and Frank only just covered by the towel he put on after their shower.

It’s distracting, as is Frank in general right now, and Patrick is not sure what to do. For now his hands are pushed into the layers of his robe, trapped.

“Man, Pete was not exaggerating when he said you think too much,” Frank says, not in a mean way, just observing. He is lying on his side, facing Patrick and now wriggles closer to him, placing one hand on his covered hip.  In comparison to all the bare skin and touching that happened before this is quite innocent, Patrick feeling the warmth through the fabric seeping onto his skin.

“I’m sorry I’m not so well versed in the art of seducing other men,” Patrick replies, wondering what else Pete has told Frank, what secrets he might have spilled or what he promised.

“Relax; I’ll take care of you.” And it does relax Patrick a bit, just like that moment in the shower when they first started kissing. It reminds him a lot of when Pete takes care of him. They’re so similar in a lot of way, but also different, and Patrick can't wait to discover it all.

“Yeah, I remember some kind of promise about that,” he says, by far the boldest thing he said since they started. It must work somehow, because Frank is nodding slowly and his face gets closer until Patrick has to close his eyes, awaiting the following kiss. It’s slow and sensual, every move of Frank’s lips and tongue against his intentional, from the stroke of his tongue to the nip of his teeth. 

It’s nice and Patrick relaxes further against Frank, mirroring his hand with his own, but he can actually grip bare skin and Frank is not stopping his advances now so Patrick takes the opportunity to explore a little of the endless skin he has only seen before.

He can feel Frank’s hipbone jut out a little under taut skin and with just a twist of Patrick’s hand the towel falls open, leaving Frank completely exposed. They’re so close that Patrick feels the sharp breath Frank takes in against his lips when Patrick lightly rubs his hand over his dick.

He feels that Frank is hard – still, since their shower – and when Patrick touches him his hips push forward, seeking out any kind of friction Patrick is willing to give. 

Between them kissing and Patrick rubbing against every inch of skin he can get to without breaking contact he feels himself getting hard again, too. Just like Frank promised.

“God, Frank…” Patrick breaks the kiss, both of them already a little breathless. Frank is nodding again, to what exactly Patrick can’t tell.

“Don’t worry, I’m getting there,” he whispers and his fingers work quick as he’s snaking under Patrick’s robe and pushing it down his shoulders. 

“Lie back,” is his next command and Patrick does, a pile of pillows under him so he’s not flat on the bed. He closes his eyes and takes a few breath of air, skin tingling in anticipation. He frees his arms from the constricting robe and feels Frank move around on the bed, the mattress dipping, a rush of cold air when his body isn’t close anymore. 

But it takes only a few seconds and then Frank is covering Patrick completely with his own body, naked skin touching everywhere and Frank’s hard-on pressing into Patrick’s thigh. Frank's face, pressed into Patrick’s neck where his hot breath damps Patrick’s skin, is sending little electric jolts down his spine.

He’s only wondering for a moment what Frank did just now, when Frank pushes his legs open and Patrick feels the familiar touch of a slicked-up finger press between his cheeks. He feels like he missed something, because Patrick has no idea where Frank got the lube – it can’t be his own, he hasn’t unpacked yet – but he’s not complaining, because instead of rummaging naked through his bags on the other side of the room Frank is already pressing one finger against his hole, his muscles twitching under the slight pressure. 

And this right here is not different, feels familiar to Patrick, because there’s not much finesse or technique in opening someone up. Just Frank’s finger pressing into him and Patrick’s muscles loosening so he can take another finger and another. All the while Frank is panting into his neck, kissing and nibbling at Patrick’s skin, not enough to leave a mark, but sure enough to redden the skin. Patrick already feels overwhelmed – the steady fingers pushing into him and preparing him, stretching him, the caresses on his neck, Frank’s hard dick still pressing against his thighs and the sounds Frank makes right next to his ear.

“Come on, come on, come on!” Patrick whispers, close to begging Frank and there's a flash of disappointment when Frank removes his fingers. But the ripping sound of a condom packet makes up for that and then there’s Frank fumbling around between Patrick’s open legs, putting on the condom until Patrick finally feels the blunt tip of Frank’s dick against his hole. 

“Put your head on my shoulder,” Frank mumbles, panting, but still making it sound like a command and Patrick just does it. So far everything Frank said or did was turning out pretty good for Patrick, too. He has to stretch his neck to do it, but it works and Patrick buries his face in Frank’s damp hair, breathing in the smell of his shower gel – he will most certainly think of Frank again, whenever he uses it – and fresh sweat. 

The next moment Frank is pushing forward, the tip of his cock that has been just nudging at Patrick’s hole, sinking in oh so slow, Patrick wrapping his legs around Franks middle and Frank is almost kneeling on the bed. It’s a strange position and Patrick wants to move them around a bit, but Frank just keeps pushing his way inside, stretching Patrick in all the right ways and he forgets what he just wanted to do. 

“Open your eyes; look.” Patrick almost misses the whispered prompt, but just almost and when Patrick does as he’s told he’s met with a clear view of Frank’s naked back through the mirror – which is positioned perfectly, showing Patrick what they look like from an outsider point of view. 

And it only works because of the pillows under Patrick raising him up, because Frank is on his knees instead of on top of him and Patrick is almost sitting up if he looks over Franks shoulder, as Frank just told him to do. Everything matching up too perfect to be random.

He sees the two guns on Frank’s lower back and the jack-o-lantern higher up, a beautiful mess of ink, the mirror cutting off just over a tattoo of what looks like a snake running through a skull, right above Frank’s butt crack. 

Patrick swears under his breath and thinks he will never forget that particular image. How the muscles in Frank’s back flex under the smooth skin when he starts thrusting into Patrick. How the snake looks like it’s moving on its own, the expanse of Frank’s back its sea of sand. 

“H-how?”

Frank’s chuckle runs through Patrick’s body. “Let’s just say I’ve been in here before you.”

Patrick is trying real hard to keep his eyes open, taking in everything he can see. But with every push of Frank he’s getting closer to orgasm – the second one and he thinks, hopes, maybe not the last – and it’s getting harder not to close his eyes.

He can't fight anymore when Frank reaches between their bodies - Patrick can’t for the live of him say how with how tight they’re pressed against each other - and starts jerking Patrick in time with his thrusts, his eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure. 

Frank started with slow thrusts but now picks up speed, always changing the angle with each push to hit that sweet spot, barely missing each time. But it’s close enough for Patrick to feel the burning sensation. And in Patrick’s position he can’t do anything except let Frank have his way with him, encouraging him with little moans that Patrick may or may not be able to fight.

At last Patrick feels the buildup, how all the little jolts seem to come together in his body until they explode when Patrick releases one drawn-out moan and comes between their joined bodies, warm against their skin, his muscles clench and unclench. And Patrick knows, in the way Frank speeds up his thrust yet again, that he’s close now, too. He wills his eyes open, because even though Patrick would love to see Franks face right in that moment, he just really wants to see Frank’s back - when he thrusts into Patrick that final time, shaking arms around Patrick’s body, back strained while Patrick feels him jerk helplessly a few more times and then still inside him. It’s better than anything he and Pete could have ever imagined.

~

“Nice one with the mirror…” Patrick is flat on his back, the pillows thrown out to make more  room for the two of them, staring at the ceiling and trying to get his breath back to normal. Frank just got back to bed after getting rid of the condom. 

“Well, I thought you might like it. Pete kind of mentioned something.” He’s on his side again, looking at Patrick and drawing small circles with his finger over Patrick’s exposed stomach. It’s relaxing in a way and if Frank keeps that up he’ll fall asleep for sure, so Patrick takes his hand in his own, stopping Frank’s motion. It’s not romantic, even though it could be with someone else, it’s just nice.

“Even though his stupid ideas make me crazy sometimes, this was one of his better ones.”

“Oh please, Pete seems harmless compared to Gerard.”

“God, don’t tell him, he might think it’s a challenge.”

“Talking about challenges, you think you’re ‘ _up_ ’ for another round?”

Laughing under his breath Patrick throws his free arm over his eyes. He’s exhausted – in the good way only sex can do to you – but he really doesn’t want it to end now. Patrick still can’t believe that this whole thing happened. Well, thanks Pete!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that. Starring next in this series: Dallon!
> 
> If you want someone else to have his wicked way with Patrick, you sure can leave a comment, maybe even telling me some things you'd like to have included. 
> 
> Or send me a prompt on my [tumblr](http://thatguyinachiffonskirt.tumblr.com/) (still self-promoting, because nobody else does, seriously!)

**Author's Note:**

> So there's that, there will be another Part. It’s almost done, but I kept going back to this and change stuff, so I thought I just post it to get it out of the way.  
> Next Series-Part will be Patrick/Dallon. I'm also open to suggestions for more stuff, if someone wants to prompt me.
> 
> Leave a comment or shoot me an ask on my [tumblr](http://fixme-in-fortyfive.tumblr.com/) (still self-promoting, because nobody else does)


End file.
